


Cavities

by Castillon02



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Dentists, Fluff, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-22 22:37:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11976504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castillon02/pseuds/Castillon02
Summary: Q has been avoiding an important errand; Bond feels compelled to intervene.





	Cavities

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beginte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beginte/gifts).



> For @beginte, and for the end of 007 Fest!

For two months, the corners of Q’s eyes squinched tighter when he thought no one was looking. He sometimes raised his hand to his jaw or to the hollows of his cheeks as if to rub them, only to catch himself doing it and lower his hand with a small frown. His clothes began to hang looser and the bones of his wrists jutted out like stripped wires as he typed.

Following Bond’s return to service under the new M, Bond had received a special wooden plaque, signed by a few of the other 00s and several of the doctors and nurses who had known him longest. It was an honorary award for “Most Idiotic Evasion of Medical Care.” It was this plaque that Bond thumped down on Q’s desk when he went to get outfitted for his latest mission to Cairo.

“If you don’t take care of your teeth before we next see each other,” Bond said, “then I’ll give this to you permanently instead of offering you a temporary trade for a gun and a radio.”

Q’s hand got halfway to his jaw before he dropped it back down to his side and rallied, eyes narrowed. “I didn’t know you’d decided to become an oral health expert, 007,” he said. “But if you’ve changed positions, I suppose I can give this Walther PPK to the person whose job it is to go to Cairo instead of offering unwelcome advice and interior decor.” 

Bond bit back his instinctive reply. Q’s nostrils were flared and his pupils were wide, his jaw clenched despite the pain it had to be causing him. This wasn’t normal procrastination, it seemed; snapping would do no good. “I’m multi-talented," Bond said instead. "I can kill people _and_  make time for interior decoration. Just like you can be a good quartermaster and still take a half-day to go to the dentist.”  

The way Q’s whole body tightened up when Bond said the ‘d’ word clinched it: Q was afraid. 

“Good luck with your mission,” Q said after giving him his equipment, stepping away to look at his monitor.

“Good luck with your teeth,” Bond shot back as he left. But before he got on the plane he also texted Moneypenny, who tended to be more reliable than luck. 

***

When Bond returned, he found that the wooden plaque was back on his desk, accompanied by a note: 

_I have a follow-up appointment on Wednesday at 09:00. Moneypenny has instructed me to tell you that you will be there and you will hold my hand without making a fuss. Do try not to idiotically evade medical care if I end up breaking your fingers; you wouldn’t make it as an interior designer. -Q_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Constructive criticism is welcome <3


End file.
